


Gibraltar

by TheDuchessUnseen



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Additonal characters to be added, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, F/M, Homophobia, M/M, Multi, Racism, old west au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2018-08-23 15:38:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8333092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDuchessUnseen/pseuds/TheDuchessUnseen
Summary: The town of Gibraltar is in danger from the Talon Corporation, their only hope is a group of strangers- each from different walks of life, each with their own past.  They've all come together for one reason: to protect those who can't protect themselves.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Originally started as a WidowTracer fic inspired by the movie Cat Ballou but my imagination ran wild and it turned into a full blown Old West AU.

The sun set over the town of Gibraltar, a hot breeze drifting through the streets. Inside the Dorado saloon a group of people sat around a table, their exhaustion palpable as fog. No one said anything for a long time until finally one of them spoke. He wore a simple suit caked in dirt, sweat and blood. His hair was snow white and he had a jagged scar running diagonally down his face.  
  
“We all know what happens tomorrow.” Jack Morrison said. “Talon is coming with all his men and it’s more than likely most of us won’t make it out alive.” he sighed deeply, “I can’t ask you all to stay, if anyone wishes to leave you can while there’s still a chance, I understand.” Not a soul at the table stirred.  
  
“You’re not getting rid of us that easy Jack.” Ana Amari said from her seat next to him, “You and I have fought beside each other for years, this is who we are, this town is why we do what we do.” she looked at Jack and the black clothed man next to him. “Do you remember when we were young? How idealistic we were? This is what we were looking for, a chance to protect people, not for money or glory, but for their own lives sake. Because the life of a person is worth more than the railroads and the factories and all that the politicians and rich claim is necessary for ‘progress’.” She trailed off and met everyone’s eyes at the table, squeezing the hand of the young woman next to her. “Whatever brought each of us here, no matter how different we all are, the important thing is that we are all her now. Here to fight for something that is right, for something important.”  
  
“Well then,” a man in monks’ robes across the table said, “if this shall be the place where we meet our destiny it seems best that we make the most of it.”


	2. The Dragons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo Shimada is a good, loyal son. He's the one that can be counted on, he always obeys his family, always does what's best for them...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took awhile, mental illnesses suck.

Ten years ago…  
  
Hanzo Shimada stood nervously outside his father’s room. He had no idea what was going to happen, but he knew it wouldn’t be good. The Shimada clan had always been close to Emperor Meiji and the senior Shimada had spent a great deal of time in counsel with the Emperor at the palace earlier. When his father returned, he went straight to his chambers and had a servant tell Hanzo to wait outside. Hanzo had a sneaking suspicion that his father wanted to talk to him about Genji. Hanzo loved his younger brother but he was young and immature, much more so than Hanzo had been when he was Genji’s age; but no matter what he did or how much mischief he got himself into, he was Hanzo’s brother, and Hanzo loved him.  
  
“Hanzo.” his father called from inside his chambers, “Come in please.” Hanzo dutifully obeyed, swinging open the doors and closing them behind him before kneeling in front of his father. “I held an audience with the Emperor today.”  
  
“What did you see him for father?” Hanzo asked.  
  
“You misunderstand,” his father said with a raised eyebrow. “He requested my presence, my help.” Hanzo nodded slowly.  
  
“And can I assist you in any way father?”  
  
The older man smiled softly, “That’s why I love you my son, you always do your duty. Yes, yes I think you can.” He got up and walked around the room, stopping at the window, his eyes settling on the garden outside. “The Emperor wished to discuss your brother.” Hanzo felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle. “It seems a rumor has reached him, one that carries great peril for us.”  
  
“And Genji can help fight this peril?”  
  
“No.” he said, turning to face Hanzo, “Genji is the peril.”  
  
Hanzo was sweating now, desperately he fought the urge to wipe his brow, this was bad, very very bad; Hanzo couldn’t imagine what Genji had done, but he knew once again he’d have to fix it. “What has Genji done father?”  
  
Hanzo’s father sighed, and bowed his head. “It seems that your brother is a lover of men.” Hanzo felt his jaw drop. This was impossible, even Genji wouldn’t do that, it was illegal, once exposed the clan would be forever shamed. Dimly, Hanzo realized his father was still talking, “- then the Emperor told me that since we were such loyal subjects and had done so much for him that he would not make this…embarrassment known, but something would have to be done about Genji.” Hanzo let out a relieved sigh, exile then, and Hanzo would be the one to escort him, he could do that. “Hanzo.” his father said urgently, his eyes boring into Hanzo’s intently, “You must kill your brother.”  
  
Hanzo stood, horrified at what he had just heard. “No.” he said to his father for the first time in his life, “Exile him father, please I cannot do what you ask, he’s my brother!”  
  
“And he is my son!” the older man yelled. “You think this comes easy to me?” He sighed and placed a hand on Hanzo’s shoulder. “I know this is hard, but you must do this, it is the only way to restore our families honor. You are strong my son, please do this for me.” Hanzo felt as if he was going to be sick, he couldn’t kill Genji, but he couldn’t defy his father, he couldn’t disgrace the clan.  
“I will father.” Hanzo said in a voice that was not quite his own, “I will kill Genji.”  
The older man sighed and smiled sadly. “Thank you my good dutiful son, thank you. Wait till he sleeps tonight; this must be done quickly and quietly.” Hanzo nodded, his blood like ice in his veins, as he left his father’s chambers, still not believing what he had just promised to do. He walked back to his own room, his own words echoing in his head the entire way there, ‘I will kill Genji’.  
  
Later that night Hanzo stood outside his brothers’ room, jaw clenched, steeling himself for what he was about to do, what he had to do for his family. Hanzo opened the doors softly made his way over to his brothers sleeping form- and stopped. Genji was snoring softly, drool dripping from a corner of his mouth.  
  
It was twenty years ago, a terrible thunderstorm raged outside, but Hanzo didn’t even notice, even at eight years old he could sleep through anything. Slowly he became aware of a small hand shaking his shoulder.  
  
“Hanzo, Hanzo wake up!” a tiny voice pleaded. Hanzo opened his eyes and turned to see his younger brother beside his bed, his small arms hugging himself tightly.  
  
“Genji! What’s wrong?” he asked softly.  
  
“It’s-” a clap of thunder shook the house, making Genji wince.  
  
“You’re scared of the storm?” Hanzo asked. Genji bit his lower lip and nodded. “Climb in then.” he said throwing his sheets aside.  
  
“Really?” Genji asked, relief flooding his voice.  
  
“Of course!” Hanzo told him. The younger Shimada jumped eagerly into Hanzo’s bed, nestling contently onto the pillows, before he knew it, Genji was already asleep. Hanzo sat there, looking at him for a long moment. “Don’t worry brother,” he whispered, “I’ll always protect you.” 

Hanzo hadn’t thought about that night for a long time, now, looking down at his brothers sleeping form he could recall it with crystal clarity. ‘I will always protect you.’ he had sworn, now here he was, planning to kill him. Hanzo looked at the sword sheathed at his side in disgust, how could he even think about killing his brother? But still, something had to be done, he knew his father would not tolerate his decision, but there was another way.  
Genji woke abruptly, and as the vestiges of sleep left his eyes he saw Hanzo standing over him, looking around nervously. “Hanzo? What is it?” Hanzo shushed his brother quickly before kneeling next to his bed.  
  
“It’s father, he went to see the Emperor today.” Genji raised an annoyed eyebrow, Hanzo knew he didn’t care about their fathers’ dealings, why did he wake him up for this?  
  
“So?” he asked irritated.  
  
“Genji it was about you, the emperor told father that you were gay.” Now Genji’s blood ran cold, if their father knew about this then he would- Genji saw the sword at his brothers’ side.  
  
“Are you here to kill me?” he asked, swallowing nervously.  
  
Hanzo hesitated for a moment, “No.” he said. “But he asked me to.” Genji had to take a moment to process what he had just been told, the shock of his own father wanting him dead was almost too much for him. It took him a moment to see a packed bag by his bed.  
  
“Is that mine?” he asked quietly.  
  
“Yes.” Hanzo nodded, “You need to get out of here, I’ll tell father you had already left when I got here, just get as far away as you can.” Genji’s head was spinning, this was all happening to fast, why did his damn father have to ruin everything? He felt his head begin to spin, then Hanzo gently placed a hand on his shoulder.  
  
“Listen brother, this will be okay, you will be okay, but you must go now, I’ll take you to the gate.” Genji nodded, tears in his eyes. His only thought being if he would ever see his brother again after tonight.  
  
“Let’s go.” he said.  
  
Hanzo nodded, “I’ll be outside waiting for you.” he said as he got up and closed the door behind him. Genji quickly got up and got dressed, grabbing the bag he opened the door, taking one final look at his room before joining Hanzo in the hall. “Quickly.” Hanzo said walking towards the gate.  
  
The pair were almost through the large main room, Genji trailing a few steps behind Hanzo when a voice called out behind them.  
  
“So you have chosen to disobey me Hanzo.” they turned to see their father kneeling under the dragon mural high on the wall. “How could you do this.” he hissed, in barely contained rage, “You know what he can do to us.” Genji looked between the two nervously, wanting to just run out the door and never look back, he didn’t want to cause a rift between Hanzo and their father.  
  
“I will not kill my brother.” Hanzo said.  
  
“Fine.” their father said, “Then I will.” Without another word, he drew his sword and charged towards his youngest son. Genji stood frozen in fear as he saw his father running towards him, ready to strike him down, he saw the blade swinging down towards him and shut his eyes.  
  
The killing blow Genji was expecting never came, in its place was the sharp sound of metal against metal. He opened his eyes to see his fathers’ sword, centimeters away from his face, crossed with Hanzo’s own blade.  
  
“You will not kill him.” Hanzo proclaimed, “Not without killing me first.”  
  
Their father’s eyes narrowed, “My son. you do not know what you do!” he yelled, pulling his sword away and going for another blow which Hanzo easily deflected. The two squared up, circling each other like wolves around a kill. They both moved at once, their blades dancing intricately around each other; strike-for-strike they deflected each other’s blows in a perfect ballet miming the dragons locked in battle above them.  
  
As Hanzo continued to match his father’s aggressive strikes with his own he felt himself tiring, he didn’t have the skill to hold up against the more skilled fighter for long. He didn’t notice the kick until it was too late, his father’s foot caught him on the jaw, knocking him down. He turned and rushed toward Genji. Hanzo desperately pushed himself up off the floor and lunged at his father, tackling him to the ground. The older man got up and swiped viciously at Hanzo’s neck, Hanzo spun and dropped to a knee, letting the blade pass harmlessly over his head. He spun up with a diagonal swipe of his own which his father stepped away from. They charged each other again, father against son, the former going for another swipe, this one aimed at Hanzo’s waist where he wouldn’t have time to deflect it. Instead of retreating, and opening himself open to another attack Hanzo closed the gap between them, taking a spinning step towards his father, getting in past the swords long reach and plunging his own sword deep into his father’s belly.  
  
Hanzo gasped as his father’s eyes widened in shock. “Father.” he whispered desperately as the body fell backwards onto the floor. At that moment, a servant, drawn by the commotion looked into the room and screamed when he saw Hanzo standing over his father’s corpse, bloody sword in hand. The servant ran away, screaming for help. Genji recovered first, desperately shaking his brothers shoulder.  
  
“Hanzo, we need to leave, both of us, now.” Hanzo stood rooted to the spot, tears in his eyes. “Hanzo please!” Genji urged. He finally shook himself out of his shock and turned to flee with his brother away from Shimada castle.  
  
The two decided they had to leave Japan, Hanzo had no desire to leave his home but once the news that the eldest Shimada had killed his father he had little choice. They snuck aboard a ship bound for America. Hanzo hardly spoke, despite how much Genji tried to help him. They quietly snuck onto the docks at night, by that time, Genji hardly recognized his brother, gone was the young smiling man he knew and loved. Now Hanzo’s eyes seemed dimmer, a permanent frown etched on his face.  
  
Before they had left Japan Hanzo bought a bow from an illegal weapons merchant, a bow that he kept on his back, just above his sword that he had not touched since the night he killed their father. They performed whatever jobs they could, their father insisted on them learning as many languages as they could as children and English was one of them.  
  
After losing one of their many jobs due to what Hanzo had come to know as Genji’s uncanny ability to romance whatever attractive man he came across, the two rode into a small town; their wide-brimmed hats, an accessory that Genji loved but Hanzo despised, keeping the glaring sun out of their eyes. No business owner would even look at them, saying they didn’t hire ‘Chinese’. The two were about to give up when a man about Hanzo’s age rode up to them, hopping off his horse, he spoke in accented English.  
  
“I hear you two are looking for jobs.” he said regarding both, “Have you much experience with horses?”  
  
The brothers looked at each other, before Genji spoke “We do.”  
  
“Good.” the man said with a disarming smile. “Consider yourselves hired, my name is Gérard Lacroix.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay Tuned for Chapter Three: The Trinity


	3. The Father, The Son, And the Holy Spirit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three strangers meet, late for the wagon train to Gibraltar, they set off after it, and in the desert, their lives will change forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I hope to be updating this fic more frequently now, so please tell me what you think! The 'action scene' of this chapter is entirely inspired by the movie 'Silverado'.
> 
> In this fic, Ana is thirty-three and Fareeha is five, Jack and Gabriel are around the same age as Ana.

Twenty-seven years ago…  
  
Ana Amari stepped of the train, Fareeha’s hand clutched tightly in her own. Grimacing at her pocket watch, Ana stuffed it back in her pocket; the wagon train was supposed to leave two hours ago but their train was delayed.  
  
“Mom is everything okay?” Fareeha asked her.  
  
“I hope so.” Ana said with a grimace. She was looking to see if anyone could tell her if the wagon train had left when a blond-haired man came to her from across the street.  
  
“Howdy, you miss the train?” the man asked.  
  
“Yes, did you too?”  
  
The man gave a short laugh, “Yeah, got held up with the Marshall’s.” He saw Ana’s hand slowly move down to the knife at her waist. “Nah don’t worry, I’m supposed to be sheriff of Gibraltar, they were giving me my duties. Name’s Jack Morrison.”  
  
Ana stretched out her hand, “Ana Amari.”  
  
“A pleasure, and you are?” he said looking down at Fareeha.  
  
“My name’s Fareeha.” she said shyly.  
  
“A pleasure to meet you as well.” he said, smiling as he shook her hand. “Was there anyone else on the train that was supposed to go to Gibraltar?” he asked Ana.  
  
“There was a priest I think, here he is now.” Ana said, pointing to a man in black cassock walking out of the train station.  
  
“I suppose you two missed the wagon train as well.” the priest said in softly accented English. “My name is Father Gabriel Reyes.” he told them, “Do either of you know a Jack Morrison?”  
  
“That’s me.” Jack said, “Stationmaster tell you I can take you to Gibraltar?”  
  
“Yes he did,” he turned his attention to Ana, “And you are?”  
  
“Ana Amari, this is my daughter Fareeha.” handshakes were exchanged and Jack took the trio to the stables to get horses and the three rode off after the wagon train. They caught up to it quickly, at a complete stop.  
  
“What’s going on here?” Morrison asked as the four rode up.  
  
“Who are you?” a man with a thick accent standing by a cart asked.  
  
“Morrison, Jack Morrison.”  
  
“The sheriff?” the man asked, “Well shit what took you so long?”  
  
“Got held up with the Marshall’s, what’s going on?”  
  
The man shook his head, “Turns out our guides were some of Fist’s men, they pulled guns on us stole our money box, all that we needed to start in Gibraltar.”  
  
Jack nodded briskly, “Where’d they go?”  
  
“Off to that canyon.” the man pointed west.  
  
“Okay.” Jack said, “I’m going after ‘em, your name mister?”  
  
“Wilhelm, Reinhardt Wilhelm.” the man answered.  
  
“Reinhardt, get your people moving.”  
  
“But you are not going alone?” the big man said, stunned.  
  
“I’ll go too.” Ana spoke up before turning behind her. “Fareeha?”  
  
“Yes mama?”  
  
“I need you to stay with this nice man here okay?” she said pointing to the lumbering German. “I promise you I will be back before you know it.”  
  
“Be safe mommy.”  
  
“Always habibti.” Ana said, kissing Fareeha on the forehead before Reinhardt gently lifted her off the saddle. She grabbed the big man’s shoulder. “That’s my daughter, swear to me you will keep her safe.”  
  
The big man nodded, “I will protect her with my life.”  
  
Ana was always good at reading people, and she knew she could trust this man. “Okay.” she said. Her and Jack turned their horses and rode off towards the canyon.  
  
“I love you mommy!” Fareeha shouted.  
  
“I love you too!” Ana called back.  
  
Ana and Jack rode along in silence when they heard the bets of another horse coming up behind them.  
  
“Hola.” Reyes said with a smile.  
  
“Father what the hell?” Morrison asked.  
  
“Figured you could use some help.”  
  
“I don’t think they’re gonna be listening to sermons.” Morrison responded.  
  
Reyes threw his head back and laughed, “I wasn’t always a priest Jack.” Jack and Ana looked at him expectantly.  
  
“What were you?” Jack asked.  
  
Gabriel chuckled, “That is a good story, for another day.”  
  
Jack just grunted, “So, anyone have a plan?”  
  
“I might.” said Ana.  
  
~  
  
“You did good Calo.” a gruff looking bandit called out as he looked over the money box Calo and his partner Nord had stolen.  
  
“Hell it was easy, just flashed some guns and-”  
  
“Rider coming in!” the lookout called from above. Everyone instantly froze, guns drawn as two horses rode into the canyon, the first rider instantly ran for cover behind a row of crates, guns trailing him, the second, draped over his horse, wore a priests cassock.  
  
“Who the fu-” their leader asked.  
  
“Get down that posse will be here soon.” Jack said quickly, “Are you Eastwood?” he asked the leader, “I’m Riggs, my partner and I-” he gestured to the man draped over the horse, “Hit the bank in town and set off with a posse on our tails, he got hit a while back I don’t think he made it. I used to ride with your friend John McClane, he told me about this canyon so I headed for it, hope that’s all right.”  
  
“You bring a posse to my hideout and ask if I mind!?” the leader roared. “I don’t know any McClane asshole, and my name ain’t Eastwood, get ready to die.” Everyone was so preoccupied with ‘Riggs’ they didn’t notice the ‘dead’ priest tie the settlers’ money box to his saddlehorn.  
  
A shot rang out from above and immediately all the men dropped to cover and began to fire. From high above, Ana would fire a few rounds from her rifle, run to a new position and repeat.  
  
“Stop firing you can’t even see the bastards!” their leader yelled.  
  
“We can rush ‘em they won’t stand a chance, I’m going for the horses cover me!” Morrison yelled running to the makeshift corral.  
  
“Brave of him.” Nord said.  
  
“I think there’s only a few men up there and that asshole’s with ‘em.” Fist growled.  
  
Jack ran to the corral, bullets whizzing by him, ‘Ana must be a good shot.’ he thought, if he didn’t know better he’d swear she was trying to hit him. The second he opened the corral Ana shot above the horses, spooking them into running. Fist caught on immediately.  
  
“Stop him!” Fist yelled. As soon as the horses began running, Reyes sat up and dug his heels into his horse’s side, money box dragging behind him. Jack and Reyes rode on, meeting up with Ana minutes later, the horses too scattered for Fist’s men to take chase. They arrived back at the caravan to a celebration, Fareeha ran into her mother’s arms excitedly.  
  
“Mommy! Reinhardt showed me how to make my own canteen, and how to drink from a cactus and he told stories about his home!”  
  
Ana chuckled warmly, “It sounds like you had quite the day, tell me all rest of it!  
  
“Okay!” Fareeha said, all too happy to comply. Jack and Gabriel stood nearby, smiling as Fareeha told her mother all the burly German had told her. Once Fareeha was asleep, Ana joined the others by a fire.  
  
“So Father, what about that past of yours?” Jack asked.  
  
“I fought in the war for Mexico’s Independence, I fought alongside General Antonio López de Santa Anna till the end.” Gabriel said with a half-smile that Jack hadn’t quite noticed till just then.  
  
“Now you’re a priest?” Jack asked, “Why the change?”.  
  
“War changes people Jack.” Ana said.  
  
Gabriel grimaced, “Si, it does. I had had enough of war, fighting, killing,” he shook his head, “war is a terrible thing. I had seen too much hurting, too much death. When the war was over I needed something more from my life. And I remember it very clearly, when I decided to become a priest, it was a day or two after the war ended. There was a rainstorm outside and I just walked out into it. Standing there, the coolness of the water hitting my face while everyone else ran inside, covering their heads I realized something.” he paused for a moment, “Life is like the rain. Sometimes you see the storm coming, so you prepare for it as best you can, other times, the rains come out of nowhere and you are forced to react quickly. Just like life, sometimes you see what is wrong, the danger; or any threat really, and you prepare, other times, you are caught off guard. But the rain doesn’t just bring storms, we depend on rain for life, it gives us crops and water, it heals, it is life in its purest form, a blessing from God. So I became a priest to bring that healing to others.””  
  
“So what do you recommend for dealing with life then?” Jack asked.  
  
Gabriel waited for a beat, then continued solemnly, and Jack and Ana saw Gabriel’s entire life reflected in his soft brown eyes, “You cannot control the rain, you just make the most of what the rain brings you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I hope you liked it!! Yes, I used Clint Eastwood and John McClane, those are the best names I could think of, Riggs and Murtaugh are from Lethal Weapon, Calo and Nord's names are from Calo Nord, a bounty hunter in Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic 'cause I'm a nerd.
> 
> Next chapter will be 'The Joker and the Thief' and will have two of our heroes meeting!


	4. The Joker and the Theives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A thief is caught breaking into a monastery in Nepal. When questioned it is revealed that the thief had no other choice, and that two people must work together to save a life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still here! Hope you enjoy this chapter!  
> I hope this is as accurate as can be to late 1870's Nepal while still keeping in canon elements of the game.

“There must be some kind of way outta here  
Said the joker to the thief”  
  
– ‘All Along the Watchtower’ Jimi Hendrix  
  
Seven years ago…  
  
Night settled over Northern Nepal, spring breeze drifting through the air soft as a lovers kiss. The monks of Chhairo Gompa walked the hallways. Some on their way to bed, some chatting softly to each other, others still in prayer. All while a figure dressed in black snuck silently into the monastery.  
  
On his way to bed one of the monks heard the faintest of noises behind him. Naturally curious, the young man went towards the noise. He came into the center of the monastery and stopped in his tracks.  
  
A figure dressed in black lifted a Buddha from its pedestal and began to place it into a satchel at their feet. The monk noticed white hands peeking out from the long sleeves.  
  
“Do you need a hand?” he asked in English. The figure spun around, eyes wide beneath a mask. They set the statue down and turned to run. The monk lashed out quickly, with a strike to the back of the thief’s head, knocking them out cold.  
  
#  
  
The world came back to light in slow, painful flashes  
  
“Who are you?” a voice asked.  
  
“Wh- where am I?”  
  
“You do not remember?” another, softer voice asked, “I caught you trying to steal from us.”  
  
With a flash it came back, the threat, the job, the monk…oh no.  
  
Tekhartha Zenyatta stood nearby his master, Mondatta. After he had caught the thief he had called the elder immediately. The pair tied the thief to a chair, hoping to figure out if they were working alone, when Mondatta took of the mask it revealed the face of a young woman, probably around Zenyatta’s age.  
  
“What is your name?” Mondatta demanded.  
  
“Lena- Lena Oxton.” the woman said with a British accent.  
  
“Well Lena Oxton, why did you come to steal from us? Have your people not stolen enough from the countries of the world?”  
  
“Hey I’m no fan of the shit my country’s done!” Lena retorted indignantly.  
  
“Then why steal from us?” Zenyatta asked inquisitively, something told him there was more to this woman than she was letting on. From almost the moment she awoke she had been jumpy, nervous, far more nervous than anyone caught by two monks should be; this was the kind of nervous Zenyatta had seen on the streets when a money lender came to collect, or when an animal knew it was being hunted.  
  
“I had to!” Lena suddenly blurted, “Ya see he took her! He told me if I didn’t get him a statue he’d- he’d-” she broke off suddenly. Mondatta and Zenyatta exchanged startled glances, this was not what they were expecting.  
  
“Who told you to steal from us?” Mondatta asked, his voice much gentler.  
  
“A man named Durant Fisher. He uh, he’s uh here as part of an ‘ambassador visit’ he collects things, artworks from the places he goes and puts them on display in his own private museum. He fought for the army in India he’s vicious and cruel.” Lena spat out, venom in her eyes.  
  
“Who did he take?” Mondatta asked, kneeling to Lena’s level.  
  
Lena stuttered a bit, “Emily, she’s my uh, my friend.” Mondatta did not miss the way the word ‘friend’ stumbled out of Lena’s mouth, strange, unfamiliar. Perhaps this woman was more than a friend he mused. He stepped towards her and untied her bonds.  
  
“And if you do not deliver the statue?” Mondatta asked, dread slight in his voice.  
  
Zenyatta saw a lump in Lena’s throat bob up and down. “He’ll kill her.”  
  
“Wait here.” he said as he motioned Zenyatta a few feet away, keeping Lena in his field of view.  
  
Lena stood quietly rubbing her wrists as the monks spoke, her thoughts preoccupied with Emily. Emily when they danced in the moonlight, Emily laughing as Lena kissed her neck, Emily sleeping, red hair spread out like a halo. Emily tied to a chair in Durant’s house, Emily with fear in her eyes as Durant pressed a gun to her head.  
  
“Ms. Oxton.” the older monk said, breaking her out of her thoughts. “We cannot let you take what is ours.” Lena’s face fell, “But we will help you.”  
  
“Help, how?”  
  
“My pupil Zenyatta.” he said turning to the man beside him, “He is one of our best fighters, he will accompany you to rescue your friend.”  
  
Lena glanced at the younger monk, he looked around her age and judging from how judging from how quick he knocked her out he could hold his own in a fight. She thought of Emily, tied to that chair- “Thank you.”  
  
#  
  
Two figures slipped through the night, one leading the way to the large mansion Fisher and his men were staying in. Lena and Zenyatta stopped a short distance away to lay out their plan.  
  
“I can’t show up with you, if he sees two people he’ll kill her.”  
  
Zenyatta nodded, he had thought as much. “I will sneak in the back and subdue any guards I find. I’ll be hiding nearby when they open the bag, make sure Your and Emily’s eyes are closed.” Lena nodded and headed off towards the front of the mansion, the bag that would have held the Buddha statue wrapped in her arms.  
  
She stopped at the door and tried to control the shaking in her body, if this didn’t work, they were all dead. Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door.  
  
“It still boggles my mind that you and your little friend thought you could cheat me.” Durant Fisher said to the gagged woman sitting in the study. He paced around her, one hand on the gun holstered at his side. Emily was saved from any further ramblings by a knock on the door. “Come in.”  
  
The door opened and one of Fisher’s soldiers walked in, “Sir, she’s here.” Fisher smiled, “Come my red-headed lovely, your friend is back.”  
  
Emily sighed in relief, she knew Lena would come through.  
  
Lena stood in the main room of Fisher’s mansion, looking up at the staircase, hoping for a glimpse of Zenyatta.  
  
“Well well well Miss Oxton. I take it from your presence here that you have what I asked for?” Lena swallowed, she hoped Mondatta’s trick worked.  
  
“First I see Emily.” Lena demanded. Fisher chuckled and nodded, motioning to one of his men. He walked into a room and came back, holding a gagged Emily by the shoulder. The two women stared at each other, blinking back tears. There had been a moment when they both thought that Lena wasn’t going to make it back, but she made it.  
  
“Now, the statue.” Lena nodded and handed the bag to a soldier who gave it to Fisher. Fisher smiled as he saw the Buddha inside the bag. Lena made eye contact with Emily and covered her eyes with her hand. Emily nodded slowly, trusting whatever plan Lena had. Fisher’s smile faded as he examined the statue.  
  
“Tell me Lena, why is the statues head crooked?”  
  
“What?” Lena asked, pretending to be panicked.  
  
“This is a fake!” he screamed, it’s hollow!” he went to pull the head off, activating Mondatta’s contraption.  
  
“Emily, eyes!” Lena screamed as she covered her own. The piece of silk attached to the statues head broke, releasing the miniscule flint-striker inside. Fisher dropped the statue in a panic, pulling his gun from its holster. Before the statue hit the ground, the spark from the flint hit the gunpowder at the bottom of the statue and the room was filled with a brilliant flash of light. Lena opened her eyes as Fisher’s men screamed in pain just in time to see Zenyatta jump from the second-floor landing in a roll. Lena ran towards Emily, pulling a small knife out of her boot to cut her lovers bonds. Fisher’s men reacted quickly, the first one lunged towards Zenyatta with a wide clumsy punch. Zenyatta didn’t flinch as he grabbed the man’s wrist with his right hand and hit the mans’ elbow with his left hand, snapping it backwards. The man screamed as Zenyatta ducked a punch from another soldier, stretching out his right leg he spun and swept the soldiers feet out from under him; as he fell Zenyatta hit the mans’ nose with the blade of his left hand then hit his crotch with the heel of his right hand before closing his hand and ripping up like a tiger’s claw tearing at its prey. As Zenyatta continued fighting, Lena cut Emily’s bonds and pulled her gag off.  
  
“Duck!” Emily screamed as Fisher raised his gun. Lena ducked and Emily ducked out of the way of Fisher’s gun, grabbing his gun arm with her left hand, she punched him in the kidney with her right before bringing her knee up to his groin. Fisher groaned and moved to punch Emily who dodged easily before landing a three-strike blow to Fisher’s stomach. Fisher staggered back, his eyes red with fury. He screamed and charged, Emily charged too, side-stepping him as he came close, letting his momentum carry him past her. She grabbed him by the back of his jacket and shoved him into a bookcase, letting him slump to the ground. Emily turned in time to see five very injured men on the floor while the man Lena brought with her fought the last of Fisher’s men. The soldier threw a side-kick at the man who instead of ducking, pinned the leg under his arm, holding the mans legs like an upside-down L. With a flash, the man threw his own side-kick into the soldiers’ crotch. The man let go of the soldiers’ leg, letting him fall, gasping noiselessly. They all turned as Fisher gasped, pushing himself up from the ground.  
  
“Let’s go!” Lena shouted as the trio ran out of the house.  
  
“I’ll get you three back for this!” Fisher yelled into the night, “Just wait!”  
  
The trio ran as fast as they could, the sounds of yelling behind them. They stopped at a market in a nearby village as the sun began to rise.  
  
“Em,” Tracer said, “This is Tekarta Zenyatta.”  
  
Emily reached out to shake his hand, “Thank you for helping us, but how did she get you to?” Lena and Zenyatta told her the story and Emily was grateful that Mondatta had allowed Zenyatta to help Lena.  
  
“You fight good, think you can show me some of your moves sometime?”  
  
Zenyatta smiled a warm, sunlit smile, “I think I can do that.”  
  
They made their way back to the temple, cutting across the land instead of taking the roads. They arrived just as the sun was falling the next day. Mondatta was standing at the entrance to the monastery, a grave expression on his face.  
  
“Master what is it?” Zenyatta asked in way of greeting.  
  
  
“You three need to leave.” he said simply. Emily and Lena looked at each other confused as Zenyatta’s mouth gaped in horror.  
  
“Master…what?”  
“Come inside.” he said quickly. “Keep watch.” he said to another monk as he led the trio into the temple. They came to a small room where Mondatta sat down cross-legged, the others following suit. “You must be Emily.” he said.  
  
“Yeah,” she said shaking his hand, “Thank you for your help, Lena and Zenyatta told me you built that contraption in the statue.”  
  
“I did, I’m glad it worked-” Mondatta trailed off as his fingers felt Emily’s knuckles still raw from the beating she’d given Fisher. “You fight?” he asked.  
  
“I box when I have to.” Emily replied, in all their exploits she was more of the bruiser when Lena tended to be more of the one doing the actual stealing.  
  
“Why do we need to leave?” Zenyatta asked impatiently.  
  
Mondatta’s features tightened, sorrow in his wise eyes. “Fisher went to the authorities after you left, he is claiming that you three broke in and stole from him.”  
  
“And they believe him?” Lena asked indignantly.  
  
“They have no reason not to.” her girlfriend replied.  
  
Zenyatta was distraught, “But why do I need to leave?”  
  
Mondatta cast his eyes down before meeting Zenyatta’s, one hand reaching into his robes. “He had these made.” Mondatta unfurled three pieces of paper, wanted signs for all three of them. “You are no longer safe here my brother.” Zenyatta sat forward in shock.  
  
“What am I going to do?” he asked no one in particular.  
  
Lena and Emily looked at each other, simultaneously reaching a decision. “You’ll stay with us.” Lena said, putting a hand on Zenyatta’s shoulder. The monk looked at her, hoping she was serious. He hadn’t known her long but he always had a good sense about people; and Lena seemed a lot like himself, light-hearted and free-spirited. He reached up a hand to squeeze Lena’s.  
  
“Thank you.” he turned to Emily, “Thank you both.”  
  
“I suggest you get as far from here and England as you can.” Mondatta said, “There are trade ships leaving for the America’s daily, you could board one of them.”  
  
The trio nodded, going to America didn’t necessarily please any of them, but it would have to do.  
  
The next morning, they were ready to go, each one with a pack of food and supplies prepared by Zenyatta’s brother’s. They were also given bamboo staffs and Zenyatta’s pack held a few more items that Emily and Lena were sure were weapons.  
  
Mondatta and the rest of the monks standing a few feet behind them bowed to them and wished them luck and Lena and Emily walked just out of earshot, letting Zenyatta have a final moment alone with his master.  
  
“Master, I-” Zenyatta took a breath, steadying his breaking voice. “I don’t want to leave.”  
  
“I know.” Mondatta said, “But sometimes life makes choices for us.”  
  
The younger man sighed and nodded, “But your teachings, I, I can’t-”  
  
“Yes, you can. You are one of my most gifted pupils, you are more than ready to pass on our teachings, both martial and spiritual.” Mondatta regarded Emily’s form in the distance, “Perhaps your first pupil has already found you.” he said. Zenyatta followed his gaze. “English boxing is no way to properly fight.” Mondatta said, a tinge of amusement in his voice. Zenyatta smile back, at least training would give him some semblance of home.  
  
Zenyatta turned, taking one last look at his home. He bowed towards his brothers one last time, and they bowed back. He turned to Mondatta whose eyes were shining with tears of his own. Master and Pupil bowed one final time.  
  
“Peace be upon you.” Mondatta said, his voice breaking.  
  
Zenyatta nodded, “And with you Master.”  
  
With that, he turned and joined Lena and Emily.  
  
“You okay?” Lena asked him, concern in her eyes.  
  
He regarded them both, grateful once again that he would not be going on this journey alone.  
  
“I think I will be.”  
  
The three set off, sparing one last glance back at the temple to see Mondatta and the other monks raising their hands in farewell before continuing on towards the rising sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Emily is a boxer here, and all of the moves Zenyatta does are actual moves used in Kung Fu, specifically the first of the four Tiger forms, Fei Hu Chu Tung (Flying Tiger Comes Out of His Cave).  
> If you could please leave a comment on how the fight scene, specifically Zenyatta's role, played out. I want to be sure the descriptions of the actions flowed well and made sense.  
> Next chapter will be called "The Wanderer"


	5. The Wanderer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse McCree lives a happy life on his parents farm. One day, a stranger changes all of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaaangst!!!!
> 
> Get ready for angst!
> 
> Kudo and/ or comment below!  
> Jesse is 14 in this story.

Twenty-three years ago…  
  
“Ma? Ma, chores are done!” Fourteen-year-old Jesse McCree yelled as he opened the door to their small farmhouse.  
  
“There you are Jesse!” Adriana McCree said as she stepped into the main room. “It’s not like you to be late for dinner!”  
  
“Sorry Ma, I wanted to get the plowin’ finished.”  
  
“How’d it go today?” Alistair McCree asked from his seat, one hand on his cane.  
  
“We should be ready to plant tomorrow!” Jesse told his parents, his face glowing with pride. His parents clapped as he went to help his mom prepare dinner.  
  
They were about halfway through their meal when there was a harsh knock on the door.  
  
“Who the hell-” Alistair grumbled as he picked up his cane and walked over to the door, opening it wide. A trio of men in suits stood outside, the one in front spoke first.  
  
“Alistair McCree?”  
  
Alistair eyed the man suspiciously, “Yeah, can I help you gents?”  
  
“My name is Richard Kincaid, I’m with the Pinkerton Detective Agency and I need to talk about your property.”  
  
Adriana stood, motioning for Jesse to stay still as she stood by her husband.  
  
“Can’t this wait till another time?” she asked as the three men removed their hats. “We’re right in the middle of dinner.”  
  
“I’m deeply sorry ma’am but this won’t take more than a minute, ya see we’re supposed to scout out the best locations for railroad lines and unfortunately the best one runs right through your property.  
  
“Then find another one.” Adriana snapped.  
  
Richard paused, then continued, “Now ma’am I can-”  
  
“My wife’s right.” Alistair said, “This is our land and you can’t put your goddamn railway here.”  
  
The three men looked at each other awkwardly. “It looks like we got off on the wrong foot.” Richard said, “We’d compensate you of course for your trouble, get you set up on a new spread and everything.”  
  
“We’re planting tomorrow, by the time you get us moved we’ll have nothing to get us through the winter.” Adriana shot back.  
  
“My family has owned this land for three generations,” Alistair said, “We’re not moving.”  
  
Richard nodded, “Well, I sure can respect that.” he said as he turned to leave, “Oh, one more thing: you know this area well, maybe you can help us find an alternate route? I’ll bring my maps and I’d pay.” Alistair nodded, as much as he hated helping them at least it’d keep his family safe.  
  
“All right.”  
  
“Great!” Richard said as he loosely shook Alistair’s hand, “I’ll be by tomorrow night.”  
  
He nodded to his companions and they left.  
  
Later that night, Adriana was about to crawl under the covers when her sons voice called out softly.  
  
“¿Mama?”  
  
“¿Si cariño?” she asked, kneeling by his bed. (Yes sweetie?)  
  
“¿Tendremos que irnos?” (Will we have to move/ leave)  
  
Adriana placed a gentle hand on her sons’ shoulder. “Espero que no mi hijo, pero si lo hacemos estaremos bien.” (I hope not my son, but if we do we will be okay.)  
  
Jesse nodded, hoping that his mother was right, with a sigh he snuggled back underneath his covers and went to sleep.  
  
The next evening Jesse’s mom sent him to one of the nearby farms with some soup, their son had taken ill in the last few days. It was near nightfall when Jesse began his way back. He was almost home, just a few more trees to pass, when he heard screaming. He ran to the tree line, two men in bandanas were pointing guns at his father. There was a crack and Jesse watched in horror as his father’s head snapped backwards. He stood there, unable to move, unable to scream.  
  
From inside, there was a roar of rage as Adriana ran outside, a bloody knife in her hand. She lunged at one of the men, the blade slicing his neck. The second man jumped away from her swings and fired into her stomach.  
  
“NO!” Jesse screamed, his legs finally moving. The last man turned in shock, raising his gun at Jesse. The boy stopped, eyes wide as he looked at the man who just shot his parents. The man stood still for a moment before lowering his gun and fleeing, taking two other horses with him. Jesse ran towards his parents, briefly noticing another man’s body lying in the doorway of the house. His father’s eyes were open wide, a large hole in the center of his skull. Jesse turned to his mother.  
  
“Mama!” he sobbed, cradling her body in his arms.  
  
“Jesse.” she said weakly as she reached to cup his cheek with a bloody hand.  
  
“I’ll get help mama, you’re gonna be okay.”  
  
“N- no mi hijo.” she said. “It was the man from- from the railroad, he did this.”  
  
“I- I’m gonna get you help, you- you’re g- gonna be okay.” Jesse said, this had to be a nightmare, a horrible nightmare.  
  
“I lo-love you cariño.” Adriana sighed, closing her eyes and sagging into her sons’ arms.  
  
“Mama? MAMA NO!” Jesse screamed. He sat there, holding his mothers’ body for what seemed like hours till he finally ran to the neighbors. By the time they got there the bodies of the two men his mother had killed were gone. The McCree’s were buried in the town cemetery, Jesse tried to tell everyone what his mother told him, that the Pinkertons killed his parents. No one payed attention. The adults just looked away, ashamed. The sheriff told him that Mr. Kincaid and his men were with him that night. Jesse knew he was lying, he had seen the eyes of the man who pointed his gun at him. Richard Kincaid killed his parents. He lived with his neighbors only a few weeks before he made his decision. Something had to be done, he wasn’t going to let his parents’ deaths go unavenged.  
  
Late that night, a small figure crept along the railway yard, the hulking behemoth of the train engine towering above them. Jesse McCree, wearing his father’s hat on his head and his mother’s serape draped over his shoulders, grabbed a bundle of dynamite. He found a detonator box and strung the dynamite to it. He ran as far as the cord would allow him. Anger raging in his heart, he looked at the train, the sickening fire-belching monstrosity responsible for his parents’ death. With a grimace, he pushed down the plunger- nothing.  
  
Nothing happened.  
  
Jesse scowled, this was supposed to be his justice, his revenge. He tried again, nothing. He reconnected the dynamite and once more, slammed the plunger down.  
  
The explosion blew him off his knees and onto his back. Jesse’s ear rang and flashes of white obscured his vision. When his mind cleared he heard men screaming for water, desperate to put out the fire.  
  
The engine lay in a heap of twisted, ruined steel. Blown apart, its boiler torn open like the carcass of a dragon. Like in the stories his mother told him when he was young, Jesse McCree had just slayed a dragon. He stood there for a moment until one of the men pointed at him and yelled. Jesse turned and fled, he had to get out of town, they’d be after him now.  
  
Weeks later…  
  
Jesse dozed on the back of the wagon, for the last few weeks he had been trying to make his way to Mexico, his mother’s home country. The Pinkerton’s wouldn’t search for him there.  
  
He ended up in a little town named Dorado, the people were nice enough. No one asked any questions about the light-skinned boy who spoke Spanish and wore a serape and a hat that was too big for him. The people would pay him to do odd jobs for them, there was a priest in the town, Father Reyes, he let him sleep in the church with the other orphans. Jesse was doing…all right, he still cried at night when he the others were asleep. One day, one of the other kids came up to him, she was younger, about half his age.  
  
“Hola.” she said simply.  
  
“Hola.”  
  
“¿Por qué lloras por la noche?” she asked simply. (Why do you cry at night?)  
  
Jesse sighed, he had to talk about it sometime, why not now? “Vi a mis padres morir.” The younger girl hugged him, and to Jesse’s surprise, he was soon hugging her back, crying softly. (I watched my parents die.)  
  
They separated and she laid her head on his shoulder. “Vi a mis padres también mueren.” Jesse looked at her in shock. (I also saw my parents die.)  
  
“¿Cuántos años tenías?” he asked her. (How old were you?)  
  
“Cinco.” she told him, sniffling, “Mi hermano mayor murió también, los hombres malos los mataron.” (My older brother died too, bad men killed them.)  
  
Now it was Jesse’s turn to offer a hug, the young girl cried into his shoulder.  
  
“Podemos ser la familia de cada uno.” he told her. She smiled, brushing her tears away. (We can be each other’s family.)  
  
“Sombra.” she replied. “Me llamo es Sombra.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know if I messed up any of the Spanish so I can fix it.
> 
> Yes, I have McCree as biracial in my story. He is white passing, he looks more like his father.
> 
> Also Sombra!!!  
> She will be getting her own chapter later don't worry.
> 
> And yes, the Priest is Gabriel, he'll be back soon.
> 
> Next chapter will be called The Last Good Man, guess who that is in the comments!!


	6. The Last Good Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lúcio Correia dos Santos tries to rally the people of his town against the Vishkar corporation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is shorter than the others, they will all vary in length.

“Like the pine tres linin’ a winding road, I got a name, I got a name.  
Like the singin’ bird and the croakin’ toad, I got a name, I got a name.”  
\- I Got a Name, Jim Croce  
  
Seven months ago... “So, From now on, anyone caught out after curfew will be detained and rations for them and their family will be reduced by half for the week. Dismissed.” With a turn, the Vishkar man went back inside, leaving the workers alone.  
  
They all left, heads hung low. All except for one.  
  
Lúcio Correia Dos Santos stalked off in a fury. This just wasn’t right.  
  
It had been almost a year since the Vishkar Company had set up shop. They were there to set up railroads across the country, using Lúcio’s own people as labor. The very thought made his blood boil.  
  
That night he stood in a small one-room house, imagining an enormous crowd around him. He held his speech in his hands, somethiung brilliant, poignant. He had been working on it for weeks. He knew that tomorrow when he stood in the town square and spoke that everyone would follow him. He, Lúcio Correia dos Santos would lead his town and they would defy Vishkar’s hold on them.  
  
The next morning Lúcio stood in the town square. It was now or never.  
  
“My Friends, listen to me!” he cried out as he stood on the edge of the fountain. The people stopped and turned to look. Lúcio swallowed before continuing. “Too long have we let Vishkar run our lives! Too long have they opressed us, forcing us to build their railroads while they deny us food and beat us for standing up to them! Well I say ENOUGH! Today will be a new beginning, today we stand up to Vishkar and throw off their chains! Who will stand with me?” he screamed, throwing a fist in the air.  
  
No one moved.  
  
Lúcio stood in shock, they were supposed to follow him, what had happened? The townspeople left, one by one till only Lúcio remained in the square.  
  
“I am going to kill you now.” the Vishkar man said From behind him. Lúcio turned to see the man standing on the other side of the fountain. Lúcio tried to run but before he knew it the Vishkar man had tackled him to the ground. Lúcio kicked him off, scrambling to his feet just as the man crashed into him, pinning him against a nearby wall. Lúcio gasped for air as the Vishkar man tightened his fingers around his neck. Desperately, Lúcio brought his foot up to kick the man away. Pushing with all his might, the man lost his grip and stumbled backwards, his head hitting the side of the fountain with a sickening crack.  
  
Gasping for breath, Lúcio crawled over to him, desperately searching for a pulse, for any signo f life.  
  
Nothing.  
  
“Murder!” a voice cried out. Lúcio turned to see one of the Vishkar man’s assisstants running away. He had to think, there was no way they’d believe this was accidental, he’d be imprisoned, or worse.  
  
Run away was the only thing in Lúio’s mind, the only thing that made sense.  
  
So he did.  
  
He ran to his home first, grabbing what few belongings he had, by then there were people out in full force looking for him.  
  
He dodged patrols till he made his way outside the town. From the top of a hill he took one last look at his town below before turning to flee, he had to get as far away as posible, Vishkar’s arm had a long reach and unfortunately there was only one place he knew of were they had little to no influence.  
  
The United States.  
  
On his way up through Central America he picked up Spanish quickly, it was very close to his native Portugese. English was a lot more difficult to learn.  
  
Lúcio had been travelling for months before he finally made it to America.  
  
He had lost track of how long he had been wandering through the desert, but he was running low on wáter and food, he had to get to a town soon.  
  
There was no town.  
  
Lúcio stumbled through the desert, it had been days since he had last eaten, he ran out of water the day before. He didn’t know how much longer he could go on.  
  
He felt his face hit the burning ground. He lapsed in and out of consciousness, no longer aware of his surroundings; at one point he felt like he as being carried off by a giant.  
  
Lúcio woke to the forgotten feeling of cool sheets. He slowly opened his eyes to see a pair of soft blue eyes looking down at him.  
  
“Where am I?” he asked groggily.  
  
“You’re in Gibraltar.” the woman above him said in english. She spoke it With some sort of accent, European if he had to guess.  
  
“Can you tell me your name?” the woman asked.  
  
“Lúcio, Lúcio Correia dos Santos. Who are you?”  
  
“My name is Angela Ziegler.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think with comments!!
> 
> Next chapter is The Innocent
> 
> Who could that be?


	7. The Innocent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Lacroix's meet a trio of colorful bandits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was inspired by the movie Cat Ballou. I also split Amélie's story into two parts

Five years ago... 

"All aboard!” the conductor as the last of the passengers began to board the train. 

            “Oh Amélie!” a bustling middle-aged woman chattered excitedly.  “With the knowledge, I have given you you will surely be a first-class teacher!”  Amélie Lacroix smiled at Mrs. Peterson, she had to admit she would miss the headmistress.  “Not only have you a first-rate education but you have also forged enduring friendships with so many other young women!” 

Amélie had to hide a smirk, if the headmistress really knew what she and some of her classmates had ‘forged’ in their dormitories she’d faint.

            “Oh sir!” Mrs. Peterson said to a barrel-chested man.  Beside the man sat a woman, a few years younger than Amélie with long, red hair.  “May my student sit with you and your daughter?”

The man scowled at them, “This woman is my prisoner, she was caught stealing.” the man said.  Smiling, the woman lifted her arm, exposing a cuffed wrist attached to the man’s.

            “Don’t look Amélie!” Mrs. Peterson said as she hurried her away.  Amélie turned back to see the young woman wink at her.  Never one to be outdone, Amélie responded with a blown kiss. 

Mrs. Peterson didn’t even spare a glance at the short-haired suit-clad woman a few rows down, rudely turning her nose up as she walked past her.  This woman gave Amélie a wink too. ‘A train of sapphists.’ Amélie thought, ‘This is like a dream come true.’  The two continued down the train car till they saw a young preacher sitting alone.  “Oh, a man of God!  Sir, may my student sit with you?” the man nodded graciously as the conductor called again, “Oh Amélie, I have to go.”

Amélie chuckled. “Oh Mrs. Peterson.” she said. hugging the older woman.

            “Be a good girl!” Mrs. Peterson shouted as she ran off the train, wiping at her tear-filled eyes.  Amélie shook her head ruefully as she sat beside the preacher.

            “Mrs. Peterson didn’t introduce us, my name is Amélie Lacroix.”

The preacher leaned forward, holding his bible close to his chest.  “I’m drunk as a skunk.” Amélie withdrew in shock as the man giggled.  “I’m sorry.” he hiccupped, “I don’t usually drink except on special occasions.” 

Amélie had to laugh at that, “And what is the special occasion?” 

The preacher giggled some more.  “I can’t tell you.” he whispered.

Shaking her head, Amélie pulled out her book and began to read.  She was only a few words in when she noticed the Preacher gazing at the title. 

            “It’s French poetry.” she told him. 

His eyes grew wide, “I adore poetry!” he said excitedly as he gently lifted the book from her hands.  With a breath, the preacher began to read, “From the saloon we heard the voice of Bad Bart calling out: ‘Come on out you two!  I’ll gun you both down faster than you can blink!’”  The preacher stared at the book, “This is not poetry.” he finally said. 

Embarrassed, Amélie grabbed the poetry book, accidentally leaving the thin volume she was hiding behind.  The preacher turned the dime novel around, “The Devil’s Children: Jesse McCree and Sombra against the Bart gang?”  Amélie, now blushing red as a tomato, snatched the book away.

            “No need to be embarrassed.” the preacher laughed, “I love these stories!”

Amélie shook her head, she had never met a preacher like this. 

From down the aisle she saw the woman with the red hair again.  Such a shame that such a beautiful woman was to be arrested she thought. 

            “I wish I could help her.”  Amélie said.

The preacher turned to see who Amélie was looking at, “Ah, her.  Do no fret my dear.” he said, lifting his bible.  “This has all that she’ll need.” 

Amélie smiled, “I suppose so.”

            “Miss, your berth is ready.” the conductor said to Amélie, standing, she shook the preacher’s hand.  “It was very nice meeting you.”

            “Likewise.”

#

The sheriff stood outside the bath, having left his prisoner handcuffed inside when the preacher walked up to him.  “Peace be upon you!” he called out.  “Sheriff, I am here to comfort your prisoner before her imprisonment.”

            “Fine.” the sheriff said with an eyeroll.  The sheriff barged in without knocking.  After the two went inside, the woman in the suit got up and stood by the door.  

            “What story do you want to hear my child?” the preacher asked.  The woman with the red hair scoffed.

            “I knew it.” the sheriff said.  “This one ain’t very religious.”

            “Surely, I have something in here to help her.” the preacher said, reaching into the bible.  Into the hollowed-out Bible.  “Please raise your hands.” he said calmly, pointing a hold-out pistol at the sheriff.  The sheriff complied, slack-jawed. 

            “Great to see you Zenyatta.” Emily said.

            “Likewise.” Zenyatta said, “Lena.” he called out.  The woman in the suit came in, bandana in hand.  She quickly gagged the sheriff, pecking Emily’s cheek as she did so.  Fishing in the man’s pockets, Lena finally found the keys to the handcuffs, unlocking her, she quickly cuffed the sheriff to the bottom of the sink. 

By this time, everyone else was asleep in their berths as the trio made their way to the back of the train car. 

            “Lemme see one of those guns.” Lena called out over the roar of the train.

            “But this gun is mine!” Zenyatta cried.

            “I thought you grabbed his!” Emily shouted.

            “I thought you did!” Lena said.  “He’s gonna shoot his way free!  I’ll grab the gun you two jump we’ll meet at the hotel!”  Emily and Zenyatta nodded before jumping from the train.  Lena ran back into the car, halfway there when she heard a gun fire.

The gunshot startled Amélie awake, poking her head out of her berth she saw the suit-clad woman from earlier frantically running, with a dash, the woman clambered into Amélie’s berth.

            “What are you doing!” Amélie hissed.

            “Quiet please!” the woman pleaded, fear palpable in her eyes.

Amélie nodded, “What did you do?” she asked, a bit nervous.

            “I just freed my partner, that’s all!” she whispered.

The pair sat in silence as the angry voice of the sheriff boomed down the car, shouting for help. 

            “That preacher and the woman in the suit freed my prisoner!” Amélie heard the sheriff growl to the conductor. 

            “Why did you have to choose my berth!” Amélie hissed. 

            “Sorry luv.” the woman whispered, “Didn’t have many options, plus I saw that little kiss ya blew; figured you were my kinda woman.”

Amélie took a second to regard the woman.  Her suit was gray and simple, a string tie topping her ensemble, her short hair messy and wild.  Amélie had never seen anyone like her.  ‘Well, I may as well make the most of being caught in a train car with a gorgeous woman.’ she thought.

            “I’m definitely you’re kind of woman.” Amélie purred, smirking as the woman blushed, turning away.  She stopped when she saw the ring on Amélie’s hand.

            “You married?” she asked.

Amélie chuckled, “Yes, but my husband and I have a very open relationship.  We both are lovers of men and women.”

            Lena smiled, “Well I picked the right berth then.” she said.   

            “What shall we do?” Amélie asked, her voice husky.

Lena’s eyes glanced down at the French woman’s nightgown-clad body.  “Well I’ll be trapped here for who knows how long, I gotta pass the time someway.” she said with a grin.

Amélie smirked as she grabbed Lena by her suit, pulling her into a kiss.  Lena gasped in surprise, Amélie kissed hard, biting Lena’s lip gently.  The brit gasped softly and shuddered.

            “You’re good at this.” Lena gasped, she almost bit as much as Emily.  “If we have time maybe we can hook up with my partner.”

Lena gave a throaty chuckle, “I’d like that chéri.” she said as she kissed her neck.  “But I wonder, how will you handle yourself with two women, you seem to have trouble with just me.”

Lena shuddered even more at the thought.  She bit her lip as the woman’s hand slid her way down her pants.  “I don’t even know your name.” she gasped softly. 

            “Amélie Lacroix.” she whispered, “and yours?”

            “I’m Le-Leeeena Oxton!” she squealed as Amélie bit down on her earlobe.

            “A pleasure Miss Oxton.” Amélie said as her fingers began to stroke Lena’s wet folds.  Lena fell back, quaking with desire. 

A sharp rap outside shocked them both out of their bliss.  Amélie peered out of the curtain. 

            “They’re searching all the berths!” she hissed, “You must go, now!”

            “Not quite fair you getting me so worked up only for me to leave.” Lena grumbled.

            “I’m sure you’ll recover.” Amélie sassed back.

Lena smiled as she opened the window, “Well you missed out luv.” she said, “Lemme give you a preview of what you missed.” before Amélie could react Lena pulled her in for a long kiss.  Amélie relaxed into the kiss, letting Lena slide her tongue tantalizingly against her lips.  Lena broke the kiss suddenly leaving Amélie to stumble forward.

            “Next time luv.” Lena said with a cheeky grin before leaping out the window with a whoop.  Amélie sat there, gasping, her face hot with need.  She needed to calm down, she couldn’t remember the last woman who had made her feel so much just from a kiss.

#

Amélie was practically bouncing in joy as the train pulled into the station, though last night had been nice, nothing compared to seeing Gérard.  It had been much too long since she had seen him.  She shoved her way through the crowd of people until she saw him.  He had grown a moustache since she last saw him, giving him an even more roguish appearance than before.  When he saw her his eyes lit up.  “Amé!” he shouted.

Laughing, they ran into each other’s arms.  Gérard spun her around before kissing her softly.  Amélie looked into her husbands’ eyes, he was trying to hide it, but she could see the shadows there, the stress.

            “What is it my dear?” she asked, voice full of concern.

            “Not now.” he told her as he held out his hand, “First let me introduce you to one of the new men I’ve hired.”  He led her to the wagon where a bearded Japanese man was waiting. 

            “Hanzo!” Gérard called out, “This is my wife Amélie.” 

Hanzo smiled pleasantly as he shook her hand, “A great honor to meet you, I have heard a lot about you.”

            “Likewise, Gérard has told me all about you and your brother in his letters.”

Hanzo chuckled at the mention of Genji, “I must let you know that those letters do not do my brother justice, he is much more insufferable in person.”  Amélie laughed and wondered if Hanzo had shared her husbands bed, he was certainly Gérard’s type. 

#

Amélie smiled as they approached the house, they still had the best land around.

            “It’s as lovely as ever.” she said.

            “In fact I may be looking to hire more hands.” Gérard said as he leapt off the wagon.

            “Is this Amélie?!” a voice cried out.  She turned to see a young man running towards them who could only be Genji. 

            “No Genji,” Hanzo said rolling his eyes, “this is obviously an officer with the Pony Express.”

Amélie laughed at the brothers’ antics before shaking Genji’s hand, “I have heard so much about you.”

            “Only the good things I hope!” Genji shouted as he jumped onto the wagon to help Hanzo with Amélie’s trunk.  Amélie shook her head ruefully, turning she smacked into a large shape.  She gasped as she looked up to see a tall man, dressed entirely in black.  The most shocking thing of all was his nose.  Or absence of one, in place he wore a silver nose, held in place by a band.

The three men turned at Amélie’s gasp, “Lacroix?” he asked.

            “I thought I told you to stay off our land.” Gérard hissed.  The man smirked before walking off.

            “Who was that?” Amélie asked as soon as the man was out of earshot.

            “Tim Strawn.” Genji muttered as he and Hanzo passed. 

            “Genji.” Gérard scolded.

Shaking off her annoyance at her husband Amélie pressed on, “Genji who is he?”

Genji took a breath, “A murderer, a hired gun; his nose was bit off in a fight.”

Gérard came up behind them, “If I were to be scared, I’d be scared of the man who bit it off!” he turned to his wife, “Now Amé don’t fret, it doesn’t worry me, nor should it you, now come, there’s a festival tonight!” 

            “Why is he here!” she demanded.

Hanzo sighed and shook his head, “You should have told her.” he grumbled.         

“Told me what?”

Gérard sighed, “The city is trying to get our water rights, make way for factories.”

            “Why didn’t you tell me!” Amélie fumed.

            “And have you come running home?” Gérard exclaimed, “I will not have you giving up on your dream.” 

Amélie sighed in frustration as the three walked off.  A whinnying horse caught her attention, turning, she saw Strawn riding off in the distance.

#

 At the festival that night, Amélie was trying to enjoy herself. 

            “Amé come here!” Gérard shouted, a mischevious grin on his face.

            “Look!” he said pointing to a man sitting at a table playing poker, “They made Brian Barnes sheriff!  We got a sheriff and got rid of our public intoxication problem in one day!”  Amélie stifled a giggle.

            “Now see here!” the sheriff said, standing up. 

            “Oh look food!” Gérard said quickly leaving.

Amélie stayed behind, “You’re really the sheriff?” she asked.

            “Yes.” the man said clearly irritated.

            “Then help us!” she demanded, “There’s a hired gun harassing us, a Tim Strawn.

            “Now little lady.” the sheriff said on his most patronizing tone, “There are so many unforeseen circumstances here-”

            “Shut up.” Amélie scoffed as she stalked over to the punch bowl.  Genji was there, leaning against one of the hay loft posts.  “The man is idiotic.” she fumed.  “Like Gérard he tells me not to worry like I’m some sort of child.”

Genji chuckled, “It’s the same with Hanzo, he’s always trying to protect me; saying that I should be more careful about the men I give my heart to.” 

            “I just have no idea what to do.” she sighed.

Genji however, started to smile, “We should hire a gunfighter.” he said.

Amélie blinked, “What?”

Genji nodded, “No one would bother us with a gunfighter around.”

The dance music began and Amélie grabbed Genji, pulling him into the square dance.  She still loved her ballet, but the lively dance did have its merits.

            “Who should we get?” she shouted to Genji.

            “Jesse McCree.” Genji said in an instant

Amélie’s mind reeled, “I thought those were just stories.”

Genji shook his head, “No they’re real, I’d say get Sombra but no one can ever find her.”

The dance continued with Genji, Amélie and Gérard dancing while Hanzo stood in the corner. 

            “Hi luv!” a cheery voice called.  Amélie’s eyes widened as she saw the Brit from the train, Lena, in the dance.  Not a moment had passed when she saw the redhead pass by, blowing her a quick kiss. 

            “Miss, thank you again for helping my friends and I.” a familiar voice said.  The ‘preacher’, now wearing normal clothes was beside her dancing.  The man left, caught up in the dance. 

            “Who was that?” Genji asked, coming up to Amélie.

            “A man I met on the train.” she said, still trying to comprehend seeing the trio again.

            “He’s beautiful.” Genji whispered in awe.  Without a word, he began to dance again, as if in a trance, eyes never leaving the other man. 

Shaking her head, Amélie walked over to Hanzo.

            “Which man did he see?” he asked immediately. 

Amélie laughed, “The dark-skinned man over there.” she said.

Hanzo looked at the man, “Hmm, he’s not Genji’s usual type.”

            “What is his type?” Amélie asked

Hanzo sighed. “Himself.”

Amélie arched an eyebrow gracefully, “I take it that’s why he said you scold him over his taste in men?”

Hanzo gaze the slightest of smiles, “Just so.”

            “Hanzo, Amé!”

They looked over to Gérard who was waving them over to a nearby table.

            “I’d like you to meet our new hands!” he cried out cheerfully.

            “Ello luv!”  Amélie’s eyes widened in shock.

            “Ms. Oxton told me you helped her and her friends on the train.”

Amélie’s eyes widened, “She what?”

Gérard turned to his wife, eyes wide with excitement, “Amélie!” he whispered excitedly “You broke the law!  What was it like!” 

Amélie rolled her eyes, Gérard was always obsessed with the romanticized tales of outlaws. 

            “I just hid a woman who needed my help.” she said casually.

Gérard looked disappointed, no doubt he was expecting some wild tale, Amélie hated to disappoint him, but she was no outlaw. 

Lena, Emily and Zenyatta quickly accommodated to ranch life.  With their help, the ranch was growing even more prosperous.  So prosperous in fact, that they were due to deliver a large number of their cattle in a sale that Gérard said would pull them out of debt and ensure that the city never bothered them again. 

            “We ride out tomorrow at first light.” Gérard told everyone over breakfast.  “Hanzo, you and Lena will ride ahead, Genji, Zenyatta and I will take the rear.”  Genji beamed at Zenyatta who tried to hide a blush behind his coffee cup.  “Emily and Amé will stay here.”  Amélie sighed, she knew someone had to stay and watch the house, but she’d like to go, just once.  Well, at least she’d be staying with Emily.  The redhead smiled at her and now Amélie had to hide a blush.  Her and Lena had been teasing her ever since they arrived, both encouraged by Gérard who seemed happy to find other people who could unbalance his normally unflappable wife. 

            “How long do you think we’ll be?” Lena asked Gérard as they were tending to the horses later that day. 

            “No more than a few days.” he answered.

            “I’ll be honest, I’m gonna miss these guys.” Lena said.

Gérard smiled, “So will-” a shot rang out as Gérard stopped talking. 

            “NO!” Amélie yelled with a heart-wrenching scream.  She came running out of the house, cradling a fallen Gérard.

            “L- love you Amé.” Gérard gasped.

            “No no, you’ll be okay darling.” Amélie gasped, tears streaming down her face.   

Gérard smiled weakly, blood dripping from his lips “I love you.” he said before closing his eyes for the last time.

            “NO!” Amélie sobbed as everyone else stood around her, shocked into silence.  Hanzo knelt by her, gently trying to pull her away from her husbands’ body.  Amélie looked up at the sound of an approaching horse. 

            “Drop the gun belts.” Tim Strawn said, voice calm.  Everyone complied reluctantly.  Hanzo was the last. 

            “You’ll hang for this!” Amélie screamed as she stood.

Strawn smiled a humorless smile.  “Unlikely.” he said riding off with a rush. 

Amélie screamed in rage before jumping on the back of a horse, chasing after Strawn.  The others hurriedly put their belts back on and rode after Amélie.

They got to town, easily picking up the glint from Strawn’s silver nose from a bench in front of the general store. 

            “Murderer!” Amélie screamed as she got off her horse, moving furiously towards Strawn.

            “What’s the trouble?” Sheriff Barnes asked, hurrying over to the group. 

            “He killed my husband!” Amélie shouted.

The Sheriff shook his head, “I’m afraid he’s been there all morning.”

            “It’s a fact.” a bystander said, as various people shouted their agreement.

            “Why do you say that?”

 

            “Just telling the truth.” the sheriff said. 

Amélie looked into the faces of the townsfolk, her neighbors.  Speechless, she jumped back on her horse, riding despondently back home, the others following in shock. 

They got back home to find all of their belongings moved out, and men were standing outside.  They ran up to the door only to be stopped by a man sitting by the door.

                        “This is privately owned by Wolf City Development.” he said

            “Fuck off!” Amélie said as she shoved him away.

They went inside to see more men, one cradling a shotgun, standing with the local undertaker.  A casket laying on the table.

Amélie looked at Gérard’s body, eyes filling with tears. 

            “Your husband will rest forever peacefully, courtesy of the Wolf City Development Corporation.” the undertaker said to the stunned Amélie.

            “YOU GET THE HELL OUT OF THIS HOUSE!” Zenyatta, of all people roared.

Shaken by the normally quiet man’s shout the others sprang into action, shoving the undertaker and everyone else out of the house. 

            “Why don’t you show some respect for the dead!” Genji screamed, kicking one of the men as he shoved him away.

The man with the shotgun walked over to Amélie.  “We dug a grave behind the barn, you can stay till morning.”  Genji and Lena each put a hand on a furious Hanzo, holding him back. 

Amélie looked at him, hate burning in her eyes.  “Fine.” she spat.  “You take our home.  I don’t want it without Gérard; but you tell Wolf City that I’m coming for them with the wrath of Hell behind me.” the man shrugged before leaving them alone, only then did Amélie Lacroix begin to cry.  They all did, falling to their knees around Gérard’s body, each one pledging justice for their friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this took so long. I promise it won't be so long.

**Author's Note:**

> The following chapters will be about how each character got to where they are, sort of mini origin stories. Many will eventually overlap.


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